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Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Blog Tour- FOREVER BOY by @MichaelJBowler With An Excerpt & A #Giveaway!

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the FOREVER BOY by Michael J. Bowler Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

 

About The Book:

Title: FOREVER BOY

Author: Michael J. Bowler

Pub. Date: September 24, 2024

Publisher: Michael J. Bowler Publishing

Formats: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook

Pages: 296

Find it:  Goodreadshttps://books2read.com/FOREVER-BOY 

Outcast Isaac and popular Stephanie have barely spoken in all their years in school. Now, in the ninth grade, their lives become intertwined with a strange boy from eastern Europe named Drágan Albescu.

Everything about Drágan is exotic, from his vintage style of dress to his flowing long hair and delicate features. But he’s also shrouded in great mystery.

He reveals that he’s a fashion model, so Stephanie searches his image on the internet and discovers modeling photos dating back to the 1920’s. Then there’s the valise Drágan carries that’s so heavy Isaac can’t lift it.

Drágan also possesses more knowledge and wisdom than all the teachers at school, coupled with the uncanny ability to discern what others long to keep private, a power that particularly frightens Stephanie due to her own dark secrets.

Who is this enigmatic boy who becomes the best friend Isaac ever had? Why do bullies at school suddenly stop their bullying? And what about the dead deer found torn to shreds in the woods?

When Isaac and Stephanie learn the full truth about their new friend, they’ll almost wish they hadn’t.

 

Excerpt:

1

THE MYSTERIOUS BOY

Isaac spotted a boy he’d never seen watching him as he wrangled a flying disc from high up in a maple tree. He gripped the flying disc and squinted against the setting sun, his gaze drawn to the new boy, who sported brown hair that fell in waves down his back. His old-fashioned ankle-length coat had a cloak attached, and it fluttered in the breeze. The boy looked back at Isaac, his eyes seemingly fixed on him to the exclusion of all else.

Slightly disconcerted, Isaac slid the ring-shaped disc over one arm and clambered down branch by branch. As soon as he dropped to the ground, two eager young boys grabbed the disc and scampered away toward town without a word of thanks.

“That was most inconsiderate of those youngsters,” said the strange boy as he approached, “to not express gratitude for your assistance, especially after you volunteered to retrieve their disc.” He stopped in front of Isaac and set down his leather bag, a valise—at least that’s what Isaac thought it was called. It looked like an antique gym bag.

“That’s how it is.” Isaac shrugged, then after a moment added, “Wait, you saw what happened?”

“Yes,” the boy replied. “I’ve been observing you.” He wasn’t tall, about Isaac’s height of five six. His voice, much like Isaac’s own, sounded on the verge of adolescence, having perhaps just begun the change, but still boyish, and he had an accent of some sort Isaac couldn’t place. It had traces of British, but something else was mixed in.

“Why were you watching me?” Isaac shifted uncomfortably. The other boy’s light brown eyes seemed to peer right through him.

“I was quite impressed when you assisted those young children. Most boys our age would dismiss them with a curt word or two.” He extended his right hand. “I am Drágan Albescu.”

“Your name is Dragon? That’s epic.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but it is spelled D-R-A-G-A-N, with an accent over the first A.”

“Still, it’s the coolest name in Millwood,” Isaac gushed. “I’m Isaac Foster.”

They shook hands and Isaac felt the boy’s strong grip, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Drágan’s hair. He tilted his head and almost gasped at how long it was—nearly to the boy’s waist.

“Your hair is amazing,” he gushed.

“Thank you. It has not been cut in some years.”

“No kidding.” Isaac chuckled. “I never had my hair real long. I don’t think I’d want to spend so much time washing it.”

“It can be a burden, but there are reasons I keep it the way I do.”

Isaac could tell Drágan would provide no more details on that subject.

“I like your accent,” Drágan said in a conversational tone.

Isaac pulled a face. “I didn’t know I had one.”

“Oh, yes,” Drágan replied. “You pronounce the letter R at the end of a word as an ah sound. For example, instead of Foster, it sounded like Fostah. I like it.”

Isaac smiled. Drágan was unlike anyone he’d ever met. “Did you just move here? Where’s your parents?”

“I’m new to Maine, but, alas, I am an orphan.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, man. Who you here with?”

“I’m traveling alone.”

“Yeah? You look my age.”

“I am fourteen as of my last birthday.”

Isaac grinned. “Cool. I just turned fourteen last week.”

“Congratulations on your birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“Perhaps you know of a boarding house in town where I may lodge during my stay?”

Everything about Drágan confused Isaac, and yet everything also intrigued him.

“Um, yeah, I do, but, uh, if you, you know, want company, I have an extra bed in my room. My mom used to have foster kids, for which I got made fun of at school cause my last name is Foster, but, um, anyway, I bet my mom would love to have you stay, and I know I’d like the company. You wanna have dinner at my house and we can ask?”

Drágan’s perfectly trimmed eyebrows rose in surprise. “We have only just become acquainted, and yet you would have me in your home?”

Isaac shrugged. “My mom says I’m a good judge of people.”

“I am, as well,” Drágan replied, “and I shall be honored to dine with you.” He picked up his large valise from the ground. “Truth be told, I’m rather hungry.”

“Follow me.”

The boys left behind the expanse of tall, deciduous trees and strolled across a bridge overlooking the placid Abenaki River, named, Isaac explained, after one of the five Native American tribes to still live in Maine. After passing over the river, they headed up a street fronting a row of houses, most in the Victorian style and quite old. The narrow street, which had no room for parking in front of the houses, wound around into the downtown area.

“There’s my house,” Isaac said, pointing to a white, two-story Victorian without fancy adornments or cupolas. In back sat a large barn, which was painted a dark red color and rose to the height of the house. With the onset of dusk, tall trees cast long shadows across the roof.

“That barn is a garage on the bottom, and on the top floor is a rec room. My mom holds parties there sometimes, but mostly it’s for me to play games in.”

Drágan’s eyes surveyed the house and barn appraisingly as a car drove past. The driver waved to Isaac, and he waved back.

“A friend of yours?”

“Naw. He works at the drugstore. In this town, everyone pretty much knows everyone.”

“Much like the village where I was born.”

Isaac was about to ask where, but they’d arrived at his house. He steered Drágan up the cracked driveway to a side door and they entered.

“Mom? I’m home.”

“In the kitchen, honey” came his mom’s voice.

Just inside the door, there was a hallway leading around past an adjacent sitting room to the kitchen. Directly in front as they entered were numerous coat hooks on the wall, very useful during snowy winters. Isaac shrugged off his parka and slipped it onto a hook with ease.

“You can leave your coat here.”

Drágan slipped out of his overcoat and hung it on a hook.

Isaac felt the material. It was thick and rough, and he liked the ankle-length style.

“I have owned this coat for many years.”

Isaac stopped admiring the coat to gaze questioningly at Drágan. How many years could he have had it since it fit him perfectly?

“I hear voices, Isaac,” his mother called from the kitchen. “Who’s with you?”

“A friend, Mom.”

He gestured for Drágan to follow. They rounded a corner and passed through the sitting room with an old wood burning stove. Beside it was Isaac’s favorite reclining chair. On cold, snowy days, he’d curl up within its comforting softness and devour book after book.

He led Drágan into the kitchen, where his mom stood at the counter chopping vegetables. She wore an apron and had her shoulder-length brunette hair tied back off her pleasant face. She broke into a warm smile.

“Mom, this is Drágan Albescu.”

Drágan stepped forward and bowed gallantly. “It is my great pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Foster.”

She was taken aback by his greeting, but her smile grew ever broader. “Why thank you, Drágan. What an exotic name and your clothes are amazing. Your whole appearance, really.”

“Thank you,” Drágan replied.

“I invited Drágan for dinner,” Isaac interjected. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Penelope replied. “Your friends are always welcome.”

“Except I don’t have any,” mumbled Isaac.

Drágan eyed him but focused on his mom. “I am an accomplished chef if you’d like some assistance.”

Penelope’s eyebrows rose in astonishment, and Isaac gazed at Drágan with wonder.

“No thank you, Drágan,” Penelope replied. “But I appreciate the offer. Why don’t you boys hang out in Isaac’s room, and I’ll call when dinner’s ready.”

“Thank you.” Drágan bowed once more.

Isaac tugged his arm. “C’mon, I wanna show you my room.” Flush with excitement, he hurried from the kitchen, Drágan in tow.

They passed through the sitting room and out into the main hall. The floors were hardwood, but the stairs leading up to the second floor were covered in thick sky-blue carpet.

Isaac showed Drágan the two hallways on the second floor. One led to his mom’s bedroom and the study, which she used as her home office. The other passed the guest bedroom and a large bathroom before ending in Isaac’s room at the rear of the house. It was the largest bedroom and had always been perfect for Isaac to share when a foster child was a boy. Bunk beds rested against Isaac’s back wall with chests of drawers along the adjoining wall overlooking the driveway; a large wooden desk sat across the room beside a window looking out at tall, majestic maple trees.

Drágan’s eyes swept the room, settling on the bookshelves above the twin chests of drawers. Lining the shelves were meticulously detailed hand-painted models of famous movie monsters, which Isaac had spent countless hours crafting. With long slender fingers, Drágan picked up a model of the original Wolfman from the 1940 Universal film. The monster bared its fangs at a lovely young woman cowering before him.

Normally unsettled if anyone touched his models, Isaac instinctively sensed that Drágan revered them as much as he did.

Drágan turned with the model in hand. “Do you believe Larry would’ve killed Gwen when he grabbed her in the woods?”

Isaac was shocked that this boy would ask such a movie-geek question, but figured Drágan must also love The Wolfman, so he dove right in with his answer. “No. He loved her too much.”

“At long last, someone who agrees with me.” Drágan lovingly replaced the figure on the shelf and studied the others.

Isaac gazed at him in surprise. “You’re a geek?”

“A what?”

“A geek. You know, someone who’s into pop culture stuff like horror movies.”

A look of understanding enlightened Drágan’s face. “Ah, I understand. I love the horror genre. In fact, Larry Talbot is my favorite character. His struggles as the wolfman brought me near to tears on several occasions.”

Isaac’s heart pounded with excitement. “Me too! Especially when he was finally cured. But those were tears of joy.”

Drágan regarded him as though doing a complete reevaluation. “You are the first I’ve met to feel as I do. How fortuitous that we’ve made each other’s acquaintance.”

Isaac felt stupid listening to the other boy speak and, if he were honest—which he had no intention of being at that moment—he didn’t understand half of what Drágan said to him. The boy was a walking dictionary!

“Uh, wanna sit down?” Isaac pointed to a beige-colored couch against one wall.

Drágan nodded and lowered himself onto the couch, looking stiff and formal while Isaac sat in his desk chair.

“Is the couch uncomfortable?” Isaac asked, worried he might have offended the other boy.

“No,” replied Drágan, but his face looked tight and strained. “It’s merely that I’ve never been in the bedroom of a youth my age. I’m accustomed to the company of adults.”

Isaac’s mouth dropped open. He was appalled, but suddenly the other boy’s high vocabulary made more sense. “Never? What about your friends?”

Still sitting up as though in a straight-backed chair, Drágan placed both hands in his lap. “I’ve never had a real friend my age, at least not for any significant period of time.”

Isaac was speechless. “I’m sorry, man. I mean, I have no friends either, mainly cause I’m a geek and they all like sports and stuff. Plus, I wear hearing aids, which makes playing sports suck big time.” He reached behind one ear and slipped off a small hearing aid, holding it out to Drágan.

“I’ve heard of these small devices but have never known anyone who wore them.” He turned the aid over in his hand. The unit was small with a tiny tube leading to an earmold. “Are they effective at improving your hearing?”

He handed the aid back to Isaac, who deftly slipped it back onto his ear. “First of all, thank you for not shouting. Every time I tell someone I’m hard of hearing, they start yelling. Drives me crazy. Anyway, these work pretty well. I control ’em with an app on my phone. But in noisy places or big sports fields they aren’t so good. I can always hear the PE coach yelling at me, but I don’t understand what he’s saying. Then he gets mad afterward and says I didn’t listen.”

“My hearing is excellent, so I have no notion of how your life has been.”

Isaac shrugged. “I was born this way and have no idea what it’s like to have perfect hearing, so I guess we’re even.”

Drágan nodded.

Now that they weren’t moving, he studied Drágan’s features and clothing with greater scrutiny.

Drágan’s long, wavy hair was a light brown color and framed his soft features, draped over his small ears, parted in the middle, and brushed across both sides of his smooth forehead. His skin reminded Isaac of some dolls his mother used to collect. What were those made of? Oh, yeah, porcelain. Drágan’s skin was like perfect, unblemished porcelain, white to the point of being pale, without the slightest indication that he’d ever had acne, which thankfully Isaac hadn’t experienced yet either. Drágan’s eyebrows, the same color as his hair, were slender and looked professionally trimmed. His lips were full, with a slight reddish tint, really the only visible coloration on his face.

But it was Drágan’s eyes that held Isaac’s attention. The color of hazelnuts, they seemed to dance with power. As they fixed on him, Isaac felt himself sliding into oblivion. The sensation lasted only a split second, but he would not soon forget it.

“Your clothes are cool, Drágan. Get ’em at a vintage clothes place?”

The boy’s long-sleeve shirt was baggy, almost like a pirate shirt, with a small collar encircled by an old-fashioned tie that looked to be made of leather. Over the shirt he wore a dark brown vest that looked quite old. Over that was a suit jacket with the styling of an era long past. His pants were navy blue, and his brown leather boots looked antique.

“With no disrespect to your own clothing, I prefer attire from past eras.”

Isaac wore jeans, a long-sleeve hoodie shirt and sneakers.

“I think you look great.”

Looking slightly more relaxed, Drágan asked about the film camera on Isaac’s desk that rested beside a twenty-seven-inch iMac computer.

Happy to talk about something to break the awkwardness, Isaac picked up the camera, a high-end model with a powerful lens.

“I plan to make my own movie. A horror film, of course.” Isaac realized he’d begun rambling but couldn’t stop. “There’s this film festival in Bangor at the end of next month, Halloween weekend, in fact, and there’s a category for student filmmakers under eighteen. Big prize money too. But the best part is, one of the judges of the horror films will be Stephen King. He lives in Bangor and he’s my favorite horror writer. Ever read any of his books?” Out of breath, he finally stopped and laughed. “Sorry, I get carried away.”

Drágan replied, “I’ve read many of Mr. King’s works. My favorite is Salem’s Lot. I have an affinity for vampires, I suppose, in addition to werewolves.”

Isaac broke into a huge grin. “That’s my favorite too. It really must be fortui … what you said before that we met.”

“Fortuitous,” Drágan repeated without any condescension. “It means fortunate. How many performers will be in your film?”

Isaac frowned. “Well, that’s the tricky part. There’s two leads and a few smaller parts, but I don’t have any friends at school, so I’m thinking of going to the next town over to audition strangers.”

“I have performing experience in my past,” Drágan commented without boasting. “Alas, all on the stage, but I’d enjoy being of assistance.”

Isaac’s heart nearly burst. “That would be fantastic.”

“What does your story entail?”

“Well, you’d be playing a guy like Larry Talbot, except a kid, who’s a werewolf.”

“And how would you create the transformations?”

Isaac indicated his computer. “I got some cool AI programs that can do amazing stuff. Let me show—”

“Boys, dinner’s ready!” came his mother’s voice from downstairs.

“I’ll show you after dinner.”

 

About Michael J. Bowler:

Michael J. Bowler is an award-winning author who grew up in Northern California. He majored in English/Theatre at Santa Clara University, earned a master’s in film production from Loyola Marymount University, a teaching credential in English from LMU, and a master’s in Special Education from Cal State University Dominguez Hills. Michael taught high school in Hawthorne, California, both in general education and to students with disabilities. When Michael is not writing, he serves as a youth mentor with the Big Brothers Big Sisters program and a volunteer within the juvenile justice system in Los Angeles, but mostly he takes care of his recently adopted son. He is a passionate advocate for the fair treatment of children and teens in California and hopes that his books can show young people they are not alone in their struggles.

Website | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | TikTok | Tumblr | Pinterest | YouTube | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub

 

Giveaway Details:

1 winner will win a finished copy of FOREVER BOY, US Only.

Ends October 8th, midnight EST.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule:

Week One:

9/23/2024

Lady Hawkeye

Excerpt/IG Post

9/23/2024

Fire and Ice Reads

Excerpt/IG Post

9/24/2024

Two Chicks on Books

Excerpt/IG Post

9/24/2024

Daily Waffle

Excerpt

9/25/2024

Book Review Virginia Lee Blog

Excerpt/IG Post

9/25/2024

The Momma Spot

Excerpt

9/26/2024

Edith's Little Free Library

IG Post/TikTok Post

9/27/2024

FUONLYKNEW

Review

9/27/2024

@enthuse_reader

IG Review/TikTok Post

Week Two:

9/30/2024

Kim's Book Reviews and Writing Aha's

Review/IG Post

9/30/2024

GryffindorBookishnerd

IG Review

10/1/2024

Rajiv's reviews

Review/IG Post

10/1/2024

A Blue Box Full of Books

IG Review/LFL Drop Pic/TikTok Post

10/2/2024

@amysbookshelf82

IG Review

10/2/2024

@callistoscalling

IG Review

10/3/2024

thefashionistfiles

Review/IG Post

10/3/2024

Country Mamas With Kids

Review/IG Post

10/4/2024

@dharashahauthor

IG Post/TikTok Post


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